


When Worlds Collide

by Morganza



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Manipulation, Mild Language, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8814103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morganza/pseuds/Morganza
Summary: Eighteen years ago The Evil Queen cast the darkest of curses; transporting her enemies into a world that doesn't have happy endings.  But what happens when the Queen realizes she's cursed herself as well? 
After eighteen years of the same misery day in and day out Regina fears she may go mad.  Trapped within her own curse, the mayor reaches a breaking point and in an effort to save her sanity Regina leaves Storybrooke in search of the Savior.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So.... I got this little idea for a fic, and I certainly hope you like it! Other than the first couple chapters, and a basic idea I'm not entirely sure where this will go. But I'd love to know what you guys enjoy and would like to see, so please don't hesitate to tell me! Once I set the story up I'll probably be doing a lot of the plot based off what you all want. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Storybrooke 1983**

 

The Queen opened her eyes, staring up at the cream colored ceiling. Sienna orbs registering their surroundings. She wrinkled her brow, then widened her almond shaped eyes. This was not the ceiling of her castle. She turned, looking at the fabric surrounding her. This was not her bed, nor her bedsheets. The woman flung the covers off of her, running to the windows across from her bed.

_It's like Christmas morning!_ The queen thought to herself, then laughed. Just as she wondered what that meant, false knowledge provided by the curse answered her question. Her minds eye immediately filled with exuberant children sitting around a tree, joyfully opening presents.

_Yes, it is like Christmas morning._  Regina smiled, looking out over the town. From her window she surveyed this new land of hers. It worked. The curse finally worked. The brunette ran her hands through her hair, now noticing the loss of waist length locks.

For a moment her heart stopped; she hadn't exactly anticipated these sort of changes. Evil Queen or not- Regina was still very much a woman. Catching a ghost of her reflection against the window the woman's smile returned. After all, this was her new life, in a new world. It was about time for a change.

Regina continued to look over her sleepy little town, imaging the citizens waking up to their miserable little lives. The knot of guilt in her abdomen over her father finally began to loosen. His sacrifice would not be in vain. After all the years he had stood by; silently watching as she suffered at the hands of her mother….he had finally come through for her. Regina had always known that her father loved her, but she had learned from an early age that he would never save her. But now, with his sacrifice Regina could finally start her life. She could finally find her happy ending.

_The Savior._ The Queen reminded herself after a few moments.

_No sense standing here reveling in success when that wretched Savior threatens everything I've worked for._

Regina pulled herself from the window, looking around her room, in search of this worlds version of a wardrobe. As she made her way across the foreign room, she caught sight of the two mannequin busts standing side by side. Styled upon them were two of her most prized dresses; a red velvet gown with a plunging neckline covered in black lace, a black high collared tunic corseted at the waist.

Regina smiled. It was good to see something familiar in this strange new place. The Queen reached out, running her fingertips along the smooth fabric of the velvet dress. An old friend, She resisted the urge to pull the garment over her body. Old habits die hard.

Instead, she threw open the double doors of what she hoped would be a closet, choosing a tailored pantsuit. It wasn't as flashy as she would have liked, but much like the new hairstyle, some things needed to change.  And the ensemble did hold a certain amount of business like authority.  

The Queen drove past the town line, holding her breath for just a moment as she did so. But it was fine, the ground didn't melt away beneath her, nor did some sort of magical force field prohibit her departure. This world’s version of a carriage did take some getting used to; it moved so quickly. But thanks to the curse Regina had no problems navigating the vehicle, and she had to admit it was much more comfortable than the carriages she was accustomed to.

It didn't take the woman long to spot a white speck on the side of the road. Slowing her Mercedes down, Regina pulled off to the side of the road. Upon getting out of the car, she could already hear the baby's terrified cries.

The brunette stalked over to the rumpled pile of blanket lying on the cold ground. The baby looked up at her with wide eyes, tears running down her chubby, cherub like cheeks, her face red from crying. Opening her tiny mouth, the child emitted another shrill cry, her tiny body heaving.

“Shh.” Regina bent down, picking the baby up, she pulled the crocheted blanket tighter around the infant. “Shh, hush now.” The brunette cooed. The Queen was surprised to find that she rather enjoyed holding the infant in her arms, even if this small little bundle of flesh was the catalyst to undoing all of her hard work.

“You're so cold,” she commented softly, rocking the baby in her arms as the cries began to soften. Regina noticed the name Emma had been stitched in purple lettering onto the girl's blanket.

“So, that's what they named you?” She asked, walking back to her car. “Emma?” The baby's cries began to subdue as the woman held her.

Alert green eyes studying the brunette curiously.

“There, there, little one.” Regina cooed, rocking the child in her arms. There had been few times the queen had held a baby in the Enchanted Forest. All of which had been as Leopald’s wife; while entertaining royal company. In those few times, Regina couldn't remember ever feeling the overwhelming flood of emotions taking over her senses. A troubling feeling that the queen dismissed, reconciling that it was some sort of side effect from the curse.

“These carriages are nice here, you'll see.” The queen said as she opened the door, careful to cradle the girl's head with her other hand. Sitting in the drivers seat she turned the vents towards herself and the child. “See? It's warm. You like that better, don't you?” Regina smiled down at the girl, feeling her skin begin to warm.

“You're okay. You're going to be okay, Emma.”

“The cold ground is no place for you, princess. You're lucky, you know. You're lucky because I couldn't leave you out here; if anything bad happened to you- it would undo all the work I've done. Undo all the sacrifices I've made. And I can't let that happen, little Emma. No, I need you to stay safe and sound, and miles and miles away from this little town of mine. And you wouldn't want to be there anyway, my dear. It's no place for a little girl to grow up. I'm doing you a favor, really.” Regina stopped, wondering who she was really saying this for anyway.

The queen looked around, feeling as if she was missing something.

_A car seat._ Her subconscious told her, retrieving a mental image of the contraption.

“Well, we'll just have to be extra careful. Won't we princess?” Regina smiled, pulling her car into drive and heading down the two lane road. The map in her glove compartment said there was a town a few miles away. Surely there would be a safe place to drop off a baby.

* * *

**Boston 2001**

 

It was past midnight by now. And long past the time that Neal said he'd meet me. He wasn't coming back- I knew that. I had been here enough times to know. Usually I was the one that wasn't coming back, but this wasn't any different. Except, I had thought it would be.

Up until an hour ago, I had believed Neal when he told me he'd be back, kissing my check and tangling his hands in my hair affectionately.  I watched him turn and walk away; eventually disappearing as he rounded the corner. He was supposed to sell the rest of the watches and a few odds and ends we had scraped together. We should have been on our way to Florida by now.

Neal had a buddy down there that said we could crash at his place; a little blue bungalow by the beach. He said he would help us find some work, get me a fake ID. We had it all planned out. We were going to start a life. A real life; no more waking up in strange places, carrying all we owned in the back of this car, no more running from the cops. Neal said we'd get a Christmas tree this year. Maybe I knew it was a joke even then. But I had hoped this time would be different. Needed to believe this time would be different.

I reached up, touching the swan charm on my necklace. It was cold. The whole car was cold, and Neal wasn't coming back, and all I had was this stupid necklace, a warrant for my arrest, and a half broken down heap of junk for a car.

Tightening my fingers I pulled the necklace, feeling the chain cut into the back of my neck, then finally pop; the clasp breaking. It didn't matter.

“Fuck you, Neal. And fuck your stupid necklace."  I yelled, even though no one was around to hear it.  Rolling my window down, I held the cheap chain out, but I couldn't bring myself to drop it.

“God!” I threw the necklace to the passenger side floorboard. Feeling my eyes sting as a few tears slipped down my cheeks.

_Stop it. Stop crying, he isn't worth it. It's always been just you, Swan. It's better that way. You were stupid to think it wasn't. Stupid to hope for more._

Yeah, it was stupid. Turning the key in the ignition and pressing the gas I waited to hear the engine rev up. It sputtered to life on the third try. At least I had the car. Driving through the dirty alley, I turned left, taking random streets until I found an empty parking spot in front of another run down apartment building. Whatever. It didn't matter where I parked; I had nowhere to go. But I sure as hell wasn't going to stay in that alley waiting for someone that wasn't coming.  

It wasn't even November yet, and it was already getting cold at night. Maybe I could drive to Florida on my own. I could find some under the table work there. At least the likelihood of freezing to death would be slimmer.

_Keep dreaming, Swan. You've got like twenty bucks in your pocket. Think that's going to get you all the way to Florida?_

Yeah. It was a pipe dream. With Neal it had felt possible… but that was all a joke too. I knew better. I had known better. Happy endings were for fairytales and massage parlors. If need be, I might end up at the latter, but I surely wasn't going to Disney.

Climbing into the backseat, I threw another jacket on over my hoodie. God, it was cold. Even under the sleeping bag I could still feel the bite of a winter. Hunkering down, I heard sirens sound off in the distance. But that was okay, they weren't coming for me. Not here in the slums where there were bigger fish to fry. I was safe here. I grabbed my blanket, balling it up and under my head. It was dingy and needed a wash, but it was mine.

And I kept it for the same stupid reason that I kept the swan necklace lying on the floorboard in the front. Because it meant someone had cared about me. Maybe they didn't care about me now, and maybe it had only been for a moment. But they had once. Beggars couldn't be choosers- I learned early on to take what I could get.

Tomorrow I'd make a plan, tonight I just needed to sleep and not cry.

_You're already crying._

Yeah I was.  And it was pathetic because I should have known this is exactly where I would wind up.  I was a moron for thinking anything else would come from it.  I had sworn I was done letting people leave me.  I was done believing people when they said they cared.  I shouldn't have let myself get hurt.  I shouldn't have let myself be used... but I had.  It was my name on that damn warrant and it was me laying in the backseat with tears rolling down my cheeks. 

~~~~~~~~

* * *

 

 

The sound of thunder woke me up. A growling, crackling sound soon followed by a pitter patter. My first instinct was to look for Neal, but then I remembered he wasn't here. I wasn't going to find him in the front seat, or walking up to the car with a paper bag full of bagels in his hands.

_You don't need him._

No. I didn't need him…. But it had been nice. It had been us against the world, now it was just me against the world. Again.

_It's okay, Emma. You're going to be okay, Emma._

I frowned, pulling my jacket tighter. Where had that come from? It wasn't my voice, my thoughts. It was...her voice. Had I dreamed about her again? I looked out the window, examining dark storm clouds. It was dark, but it wasn't dark enough to be night time. Five…maybe six? That was late enough to turn the car back on, drive to a diner and get a hot chocolate. I could warm up there; make a plan.

Driving to the nearest greasy spoon, a little dive that served meals on the cheap, my mind played back images from my dreams. Not really images; blurry scenes I had long forgotten. Red lips. Dark hair. That raspy far off voice. Forgotten? No, more like made up. I didn't need a degree in psychology to know that.

I used to think she was real. When I was small and scared; I’d think of her as I tried to fall asleep in some strange new place. I'd hear her tell me I was okay. That everything would be okay, and I believed her. But I hadn't dreamed of her in years. Why now?

_Because Neal made you believe in fairytales._

Asshole. Well, I didn't need him, I never did. What good did he bring me anyway? I was better off by myself. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Storybrooke 2001**

  
Regina opened her eyes, staring straight up at the cream colored ceiling of her mansion. She didn't bother turning to look at the clock. It was 5:15 on the dot. In 15 minutes the damned contraption would go off, and she would throw her hand to the side, shutting it off robotically. Just as she had for the past 18 years. Except on those occasions when the former queen couldn't muster the ability to care about the incessant beeping. On those days the woman would simply lay there, allowing the shrill machine to ring out in the room, over and over. Those days had been growing increasingly more frequent.

The mayor had begun to grow weary, unable to find any joy in the awful monotony of each day. She thought perhaps she was going mad.

 _That would be my luck._ Regina thought to herself sardonically.

Exhaling, the brunette turned the alarm off before it could begin its assault on her ears, then turned to the empty spot in her bed that the man had occupied the night before. He was the sheriff here, in this world, huntsman is the other; obedient pet in both. Some nights he stayed, most nights he didn't. It was at the mayor’s whim, of course. There was a time when Regina enjoyed the man's company, he was nice to look at and there was something pleasant about his broody demeanor. She once got a certain brand of cruel pleasure from knowing he despised her, yet had to bend to her every whim. But that had faded years ago, and now the woman was bored.

More than bored, Regina was depressed. Not the sort of sorrowful depression that came from losing the love of your life, nor the type that comes from years of emotional neglect and trauma. No, this was worse. At least those came with the motivating highs and lows that forced her out of bed in the morning. Now, she only felt a certain dull numbness; a grey cycle of nothingness. There were no challenges, no victories. Just the same succession of predictable events day after day. Like a broken record repeating the same lyrics over and over. The alarm clock was only the beginning.

Throwing the covers off, the woman sat up, letting her feet hit the plush carpeting of her bedroom. She told herself laying in bed would only make things worse, at least it was Thursday- a weekday. She would be able to busy herself at work; there, behind her desk, she could attempt to revel in the absolute power she had allotted herself. She could go to Granny's and watch everyone else struggle in the miserable lives she had allotted them. There were ordinances to issue and deny, a secretary to yell at, and another futile appointment with Dr. Hopper. Not that any of it mattered, but it did keep her busy.

Staying busy had to be worth something. Regina wasn't one to sit and twiddle her thumbs. Her mind needed exercise, no matter how repetitive it was. She was beginning to understand why Rumple had taken to spinning straw. Anything was better than nothing. So the former queen mustered the strength to shower. She styled her hair and applied her makeup, pretending she cared. She dressed, and collected her leather briefcase, walked out the door and started her car. All the while knowing that none of it mattered.

 

Regina opened the glass door to Granny's, her eyes searching over the usual suspects, wishing to see something or someone that surprised her. Of course, she knew there wouldn't be any surprises. The same regular crowd sat at their seats, the same ones they sat at day in and day out. There was Leroy sitting in the corner staring into his coffee, while Storybrooke’s resident doctor sat at the counter. No doubt giving Ruby the same line he had given her the morning before, the waitress leaned against the counter, her skirt as short as ever. Regina didn't have to look, actually tried not to look, at the woman sitting at the middle table. For the first time since casting the curse, she had no desire to even look at Snow. Mary Margaret in this world. It seemed the woman was a constant source of unhappiness for the former queen. Instead, the mayor took her own usual seat at the counter, half disappointed that it wasn't already occupied.

 _So this is what it came down to?_  Regina asked herself.

_Getting excited at the prospect of fighting over a stool? This is what your father was sacrificed for?_

“Your regular, Madame Mayor?” Ruby asked, shaking the woman from her thoughts. The waitress stood, hand on her exposed hip, waiting expectantly for confirmation.

Regina cleared her throat, raising her eyebrow.

“Yes, and might I remind you, my regular is not the cup of stale, lukewarm coffee I was served yesterday. Do you think you can manage that?”

Ruby inhaled, pursing her lips. The mayor narrowed her eyes, daring the girl to challenge her. Silently praying for some sort of reaction. Instead, and as Regina had expected, the waitress exhaled, offering a fake, wide smile.

“Coming right up, Miss Mills.” Ruby spun on her heel, waiting until she faced away from the despicable woman before rolling her eyes.

"Bitch." The girl mouthed silently.

Regina sighed, tucking a piece of hair back with her index finger. The coffee had been fine yesterday, and it would most likely be fine today. But that didn't matter. The mayor turned, surveying the room, finally looking at the pathetic woman behind her. Mary Margaret sat huddled over her cup of tea, her blue coat hugging her small frame as she read the morning paper. She sat alone as she had every morning for the past eighteen years.

The mayor watched as Ruby walked over to the table, refilling the school teacher’s tea. Smiles were exchanged, as a kind word for one another was spoken.

"So, when are you going to join me for a night of fun at the Rabbit Hole?” Regina heard the redhead ask.

“Oh, Ruby! I just don't think that's my sort of scene. ” Mary Margaret wrinkled her nose.

“You'll never know unless you try it!” Ruby said in a sing song way.

“Hearing about your adventures is more than enough excitement for me.” The schoolteacher smiled warmly.

Regina rolled her eyes, disgusted. Yes, she had separated that idiot from her husband and child, but what good was it if the woman had no idea how much she was suffering? How was it that the mayor was still the most miserable of them all?

“My coffee?” The brunette snapped when Ruby walked near her.

“I started a fresh pot, Madame Mayor. It's still brewing.” The waitress said a bit to cheerfully for the woman's liking.

“Make it to go.” Regina demanded. She wanted to scream, unsure if she could stand a moment more within the confines of the diner. Within the confines of Storybrooke for that matter.

_If I don't get away from these people I'm going to die. If I don't get away, I hope I die._

Finally, and not a moment too soon, the scantily clad waitress set down the mayor's coffee.

“Will that be all, Mayor Mills?” Ruby asked, ready for the woman to be out the door.

Regina's lip curled, too agitated to give a response. She wrapped her fingers around the coffee cup, dropping a few dollars on the counter before turning on her heel. She had hoped that leaving the diner and breathing some fresh air would help, and it did. But the relief only lasted a moment before she looked up to see Marco on his ladder, fixing that damn sign above his shop.

 _This is insane,_ the woman thought to herself as she marched down the street.

_I wanted to curse everyone else, but in doing so I've cursed myself the most. It's only a matter of time before I really do go mad. But what are my choices? I can't just undo the curse. And even if I could…. What then? Watch as everyone else finds their happy ending? Let the townspeople show up on my front lawn, torches and pitchforks in hand? It wouldn't take long before they put two and two together. No. That just won't do. You made your choices, Regina, now you have to live with them.’_

The mayor walked through her office doors, feeling as trapped as she had before. Maybe this was worse. At least back then, when she was Cora’s daughter, when she was the king’s wife, she had been able to hope and plot for a better future. Now, she was simply serving out a life sentence. Even suicide had been an option then, not one she favored, but there were more than a few times it had crossed her mind in the Enchanted Forest. And it wasn't that she couldn't still go down that road now, but if she died, so did the curse. Regina had worked too hard destroying happy endings to give the people such a pleasant one.

Maybe it was thoughts of the curse, but Regina's mind suddenly turned to thoughts of the Savior. It was sort of funny, in that horribly tragic way that life often was. She and the Savior shared one thing in common; if either of them died the curse would be immediately broken. Had it not been for this fact, the former queen would have made sure the girl died long ago, Regina didn't like loose ends.

She remembered how the child had wiggled in her arms, crying until she spoke to the infant, bouncing the girl in her arms.  It had been cold, and the baby was so small. There was a moment, maybe more than just one that caused Regina's stomach to turn with guilt. It wasn't the girl's fault, although, the woman was sure if the child was given time to mature, she would turn out as wretched as her mother. But that wouldn't be Regina's problem. She couldn't kill the child, and she couldn't allow her to perish on the side of the road, but she could send the girl away. Far away. Away from Storybrooke, away from Snow and Charming, and most importantly, away from tampering with the curse. A cursed town was really no place for an infant anyway, she had told herself each time her dark eyes traveled down to soft, chubby flesh.

The baby had been carefully escorted to the nearest police station. There Regina had played the concerned citizen; taking a trip out of town, she had driven by the crumpled blanket, explaining that worry caused her to stop. Women's intuition, she had explained to the sheriff. And then it was done. Emma had been taken by the authorities, child protective services had been called, and soon enough Regina was on her way back home.

She had been so happy driving back that day. Feeling as if the future was finally looking bright; a weight lifted off of her now that all of her t’s had been crossed. Regina had never imagined that the infant would be the lucky one.

Before the mayor even realized what she was doing, her hand opened up the desk drawer; pulling out an old manila folder. Regina held her breath as she opened the paperwork, as if by doing so it would magically reverse the curse. But that was silly, it's contents were simply a collection of paper work that had been saved on the girl. Throughout the years Regina had kept tabs on the Savior, thinking it prudent. Sydney Glass had obtained most of the information in the folder, on the rare times he came up dry, the mayor had resorted to Mr. Gold. Regina despised the man, he was almost as much to blame for her unhappiness as her stepdaughter, but he was resourceful and he had proved his value at times.

The mayor began thumbing through the documents, although she had seen it all before. The girl had been adopted for a short time, then put back into foster care; bouncing from one home to the next. At first Regina had been happy with the knowledge that the Savior was miles, even states away from Storybrooke, but over time her guilt grew. In the last few years, as she became increasingly more unhappy, Regina had stopped collecting information on the young girl. Maybe a part of her had begun to hope the Savior would come and break her free from the prison she had created, even if it did mean her very life would be threatened. At least that was a challenge.

_Perhaps I've already lost my mind and I'm just descending into madness._

But the mayor was already picking up the office phone, her fingers dialing the number for Glass.

“Mayor Mills,” the man answered on the second ring. “How can I be of service?”

“Emma Swan. I want whatever information you can get on her.”

“The girl? But you haven't been interested in her for-”

“Well I am now.” Regina rolled her eyes. “Are you of use to me or not, Sydney?”

“Of course,” the man reassured quickly.

“Good. Have it to me this afternoon.” The mayor demanded, not waiting for an answer before hanging up.

Regina leaned back in her chair, not sure why she had even asked for the information.

* * *

 

Regina cut her appointment with Dr. Hopper short. It was pointless, and she had been going around in circles for months now. When the doctor suggested she take some time for herself, a vacation out of town, Regina could only laugh. The man was a joke, and she was an even bigger one for thinking a cricket could help her find happiness. It was at that point she collected her purse and jacket, excusing herself from the office.

Once inside her car she pulled her blackberry out; two missed calls from Glass. Regina smiled, although she wasn't sure what she was smiling about. Dialing the man back before she pulled out from the parking lot, the brunette could already feel her heart pumping with excitement.

“What have you found for me, Glass?” Regina drummed her fingers against the steering wheel of her car.

“Well, there isn't much to go on. Bounced from foster home to foster home. A habitual runner- so many of them are..” The man said as if he had any experience to draw from, false knowledge from the curse filling any gaps. “She ran away from her last foster home just before aging out of the system. Since then she's had some recent trouble with the law.”

“What sort of trouble?” Regina's brow furrowed.

What was she running from? The brunette was suddenly plagued with images from Lifetime movies watched during her many restless nights.

"Looks as if your girl here has a warrant for her arrest.”

“A warrant?” The mayor asked, surprised. “For what?”

“Fencing. It's the buying and selling of-”

“I know what it means!” Regina cut the man off, waving her hand dismissively.

_A thief?_

“Do you want me to send you the paperwork?” Sydney asked, pulling the woman from her thoughts.

“Yes, send it to my office.” Regina pulled the phone from her ear, then thought better of it. “Actually, no. I'll be by to pick it up.” The mayor was done at the office, although it was just afternoon. Not that there was any real work to be done, but her hours often lasted until evening. But whatever work was left held little interest to her; it would undoubtedly be there waiting for her in the morning. Or longer if needed.

As Regina pulled her Mercedes out of the doctor’s parking lot she thought back to the baby she had found on the side of the road, feeling more than a little guilty as she wondered what sort of effect being bounced from foster home to foster would have.

_It's not my fault she wasn't adopted,’ the mayor consoled herself. ‘And whatever trouble she's gotten herself into; those were her choices that landed her there. Not mine._

The dark haired woman pursed her lips as she drove down the street. She had done far worse in her past, there was no reason to let guilt creep into her subconscious now. But despite what Regina told herself, and as much as she tried to quiet it, shoo it away and deny it; a small ember of regret began to grow in her mind.

Parking her car, and walking into Sydney’s office the mayor pushed away any ridiculous thoughts of remorse. She didn't even know what she was doing here, didn't know why she was suddenly so compelled to investigate the whereabouts of the young girl.

“Good Afternoon Mayor Mills.” The petite receptionist nodded from behind her desk as the brunette walked by, giving a curt nod to the girl. In eighteen years Regina had never been able to remember the girl's name; a mouse little thing with dishwater blonde hair. In the Enchanted Forest she had been a maid or a seamstress, maybe one of the kitchen staff. The former queen wasn't sure, and it didn't really matter. Having no particular feelings for the young woman was perhaps a blessing for the girl.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Madame Mayor.” Sydney smiled, holding the door to his office.

Regina rolled her eyes, even in this world the man's affections were tiresome. Pathetic, really, the way he ran after her like a puppy dog no matter how many times he was kicked. He never had any interest in her, despite what he may have said. The genie had simply seen a pretty face and thought with a few kind words he could make it his. Regina hadn't an ounce of pity for him in the forest, and she certainly didn't have any for him now.

“Is this it?” The brunette asked, flipping through the lean stack of papers in the folder.

Sydney raised his brows, his lips stretching into a thin line across his face. “As I said there wasn't much I could get. There's more paperwork that I'm waiting to come through. Perhaps tomorrow or Monday.”

The man continued to speak, but Regina wasn't listening. The mayor continued to flip through the meager stack of papers, hoping to find something that would be of use to her.

“There's no picture? No address?” The mayor asked, speaking mostly to herself.

“The most recent address listed is from a year ago. I would say she may still be there, but it looks like it was already checked out by the authorities.”

“I see,” Regina nodded, clenching her teeth. “A year ago… given the rate that this girl moves… she could be across the country by now.”

“She does seem to have a hard time staying in one spot for very long.” Sydney nodded, moving behind the brunette. “Are you thinking about looking for her?”

“Without a place to start, I imagine that would be rather difficult.”

“Why has she always been so important to you? Is she a relative?”

“It's really none of your business, Sydney.” Regina turned, facing the man as she flipped the manilla folder closed, holding it under her arm.

Sydney nodded, taking a step back and shifting uncomfortably. “Of course. I just think if you decide to go to Boston-”

“If I decide to go to Boston, that too, is of no concern to you, Glass.” Regina shook her head, tossing a piece of hair from her face.

“I could help you if you decide to go.”

“Help me?” The mayor laughed. “You couldn't even find her whereabouts or get a current picture of her.”

The man raised his brows, looking rejected. “I… I'm still waiting on more paperwork…”

“Then I suggest you call me when you have something of value for me.” Regina snapped, briskly walking past the man and out of the office.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this, thank you for reading. And a very big THANK YOU to Luna for always giving me such amazing feedback and tolerating all of my fangirling!

 

 

 

After the disappointing meeting with Glass, Regina decided not to return to the office. What was the point anyway? She was surrounded by staggering incompetence. Not that it even mattered. Standing in her study, the mayor poured herself a glass of cider, then looked at the clock. It wasn't even three o’clock yet. She sighed, holding the stemless glass in mid air. It was sloppy to start drinking now; before five on a Thursday night. But what else was there to do? She could call Graham over, but even the physical distraction he provided had grown empty, making the former queen feel that much more alone. Yes, everyone was unhappy, but she was perhaps the most unhappy of them all.

“I'm supposed to be happy!” Regina growled, slamming the glass down with enough force to spill the amber liquid over the rim. The woman pressed her fingers to her lips, tasting the cider on her skin.

_This curse is defective. I should have know that, consider the source. That imp has never given me anything but darkness and heartache, I was a fool to think this would be any different. If only Snow knew… If only that spoiled bitch knew what I had taken from her-_

Regina stopped in mid thought, squinting her eyes as if discovering something for the first time.

_That's the problem. She doesn't know. None of them do. Ignorance is bliss and they're all blissfully ignorant…. Well, perhaps not blissfully, but they can't even comprehend their own misery. This curse has shielded them, while I've been painfully aware each and every day.. How can you grieve something that you don't know you've lost? Of course, you can't._

Regina began to pace back and forth, heels clicking on the marble floor of her office.

_Snow needs to know what she's lost. She needs to live with that pain day in and day out as I have._

Thoughts of breaking the curse began to fill the woman's mind. Of course there were obstacles, loose ends to this half thought plan, but that was part of the fun. It had been far too long since she had gotten to apply herself. It had been too long since she felt alive.

Regina turned from the mirror, heading up the stairs and into her bedroom. Stalking, as if possessed, she threw open the double doors of her walk in closet. Marching purposefully to the back, she retrieved two Louis Vuitton monogrammed bags; one a duffle, the other a suitcase. Compliments of the curse. Tossing them onto the large bed she pursed her lips. Perhaps it was a bit much, but she wasn't one to travel light, and she really didn't know how long it may take to find the Savior. Surveying her closet, the mayor packed her clothes, folding each item carefully. Silk blouses on one side, pencil skirts and slacks on the other. She laid a meticulously organized make up bag on top before zipping the suitcase closed. Heels and oxfords filled the duffle, gathering her most needed bath products she arranged the items carefully. Regina walked over to her dresser, filling the remaining space with undergarments and night clothes. Regina looked the items over, then returned to the dresser.

She reached towards the back of the top drawer; fingers outstretched as she searched. Finally her index finger hit cold metal. The mayor hooked her fingers around the smooth surface, inching it closer until she could wrap her fingers around it. Holding the handle of the gun, she inspected the revolver. Graham had been given the knowledge of operating the weapon, and he had passed that on to her, as well as the gun itself. At the time, Regina had only humored him out of boredom. Going along with his vapid concerns for her safety. She hadn't thought she would ever have the use for it, but now she was quite glad to understand how it worked. Gingerly, she set the gun into the duffle, pushing it down to the side. Out of view, but easily within reach.

With her bags packed, Regina reached for the door. Perhaps she was crazy. She really didn't have any plan other than finding the princess, and even that would be difficult without an address. The mayor sighed, dropping her bags to the ground.

_This is idiotic. I have no plan, no idea where to start_.  

Regina turned around. It felt like a jail sentence. A cell fit for a queen. No, she couldn't stomach another night in this house, in this town.

_Boston. She may still be there. I'll find her…and then? Then what? Kill her? Bring her back to Storybrooke and kill her in front of the school teacher?_

Regina bit the inside of her lip.

_Find her. Just find her and then figure it out…_

  
Driving through the town had been easy, thrilling even. But as Regina neared the line separating one world from the other, her doubts resurfaced. She had lived in this world for eighteen years, but Storybrooke wasn't exactly the same thing.  Rather a piece of land caught between two worlds. The curse had provided false knowledge; the ability to drive a car for instance. Within her memory bank resided countless pop culture references, American history, and the laws of the land, but there was much the former queen didn't understand about the world past the town line.  But, maybe that was exactly what she needed. Once everything was said and done maybe she would leave and never come back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The windshield wipers glided back and forth, but they were hardly any match for the downpour that pounded against the glass. The sun had set an hour ago, and what had previously only been a light sprinkle was now a full blown storm. To make matters worse, Regina was lost. She had been for some time now. Not that she had even known where she was going to begin with, but now she didn't know where she was.

_This was an asinine idea._

The former queen chastised herself, glancing down at the map sprawled out on the seat beside her. Regina turned back to the road, only now seeing the outline of a car in front of her. The car seemed to appear out of nowhere, not a single taillight illuminated. Regina quickly slammed the toe of her black heels onto her brake, but the small car in front of her seemed to simultaneously slow down. As she barreled towards the vehicle Regina pulled her wheel, trying desperately to avoid the car in front of her. An accident was the last thing she needed on this terrible outing.

Even with the quick reaction of her brakes and steering the car off to the side, it was no use. Regina had seen the car too late, her Benz going too fast to stop in the short amount of time, the roads too slick. It was mere seconds and hours all at once. Regina heard the sound first, flying forward in her seat as the sound of metal colliding with metal filled the air. An awful crunching sound.

“Shit!” The mayor exclaimed, being thrown back against her seat from the impact. The woman yelled again, hitting the wheel with both hands. In her fit of rage, she failed to notice the driver of the small car opening the door and getting out.

“-Jesus, lady!”

Regina snapped her head up.  Her heart pounding as she focused on the cause of the yelling.  A tall woman in jeans and a hoodie threw her hands up in the air.  
  
_I should have known better; I don't belong here. I should have stayed. I should have stayed in Storybrooke…._

The young woman stood, staring at her car in disbelief. It was the perfect end to a perfectly awful day.  Emma looked behind her.  A Benz. Some rich lady in a freaking Mercedes had to rear end her.  It couldn't have been some slime ball without insurance. Someone that would want to settle this without the cops; it couldn't have been someone like her. What was Ms. Fifth Avenue doing in the slums of Boston, anyway?

Regina sat in her car, staring at the stranger in front of her, but not looking at all. Instead, she thought of how she could possibly get out of this. She wasn't sure how much she existed outside of Storybrooke. At least not in any legal or financial sense. Her license, her credit cards, all of it belonged to a town that wasn't real. If she stopped to get gas, she wasn't sure her card would work. And that would surely dampen her plans. Before leaving town she had stopped by the bank for this very reason. Unsure how much she would need, Regina had withdrawn several thousand dollars, causing quite the raised brow from the girl behind the counter.

The mayor hadn't anticipated any activity involving the police.  If the authorities were called now, they would run her license. A license that only existed within the confines of Storybrooke. Why had she assumed she would find any reprieve from the curse?

Momentarily, Regina thought about backing up and just driving away. Even if the girl got her license plate, there was a chance she could be out of Boston before the police caught up with her. Even with the rain, she might be able to make it back to the safety of Storybrooke in a couple of hours.

Emma glanced behind her. Fifth Avenue still hadn't gotten out of the car, she just sat there gaping, her plump, perfectly outlined lips parted in horror. Emma's frown deepened. Who did this woman think she was?

Sighing, the blonde lumbered over to the tinted window of the black Mercedes.

“Hey lady,” she rapped her knuckles on the glass. Finally, the window rolled down. A small crack opening up.

“-You hit me.”

“-Your brake lights are out.”

Both women started in unison.

Emma scoffed. Regina scowled. Deep green eyes met with cool amber orbs.

Emma wrinkled her nose, getting an odd sense of familiarity. It was dark, she could barely make out the woman's features, but there was something about the woman that tugged on her subconscious. Something about the tilt of the brunette’s head, the sound of her voice….

_Of course I know her. Seen her a hundred times before. Just another privileged bitch, born with a silver spoon in her mouth._

Emma tried to shrug off the tingle at the back of her neck. She knew this woman, or rather her type. That's all it was.

Regina pursed her lips, the lines in her forehead growing across otherwise perfect olive skin. The mayor got the unnerving feeling that she knew this young woman. That she had, at the very least seen her before. But that was impossible.

_You're tired. You're out of your element and you're tired. Regina told herself._

“Do you want to come take a look?” Emma finally asked, shifting her weight.

"It's pouring!” The brunette shrieked, indignantly.

“Yeah…. I got the memo.” Emma yelled, gesturing at her soaked clothing.

"Is it... how bad is it?” Regina asked, still speaking out from the crack in her window.

The blonde sighed, looking back at her bumper. At least she hasn't mentioned the cops yet.

“I'm not sure,” Emma shrugged. “Do you wanna back up?” She turned back to Fifth Avenue, but the woman had already rolled her window closed, slowly backing up the car. The Mercedes didn't make it but a few inches before there was a screech, then a loud clanking thud.

“Damn it!” Emma yelled, stomping her foot. The bumper of her yellow Bug lay on the wet pavement, properly mangled.

“One of my headlights are out!”

Emma spun around when she heard the raspy voice yell out in disbelief. Her Majesty had gotten out, a sleek black umbrella covering her perfectly styled hair from the rain. The woman wore a wool trench coat tied snugly around her waist, a tight calf length skirt, and pencil thin heels that clicked as she walked to the front of the car. Emma didn't have to look at the tags to know they were designer. Even without the Benz, the woman reeked of money.

“What were you doing?” The dark haired woman demanded, furious as she turned from her car, back to the blonde. “What's wrong with you? This car shouldn't even have been on the road!”

“Whoa! You're the one that hit me, remember?” Emma crossed her arms, stalking over to the brunette. She couldn't believe this woman. And yet, she could.

"Don't speak to me that way.” Regina snapped, despite herself.

_This isn't Storybrooke, and you're not in control here._

“We can fix this,” The mayor added after a moment of reflection.

_We? We didn't hit my car._ Emma thought to herself, then stopped. Not once had the woman pulled out her insurance, or suggested calling the cops. Surely she had a cellphone on her. Any other person of means would have already made the call, but she hadn't. Something was up.

“We should file a report.” Emma knew she was flirting with disaster. If she was wrong, things could turn out even worse than they already were, but she got the feeling this woman wanted nothing to do with the cops. And when had better judgement ever stopped her before?

“No!” Regina snapped, a bit more desperate than she would have liked. “No. No, it's fine. No reason to raise our premiums.”

Emma tried to hide her smile, inwardly jumping up and down with glee. 

The mayor cleared her throat and attempted to regain her composure. “I'm sure we can work something out.”

Emma snickered.

“That sounds like the beginning of a bad porno.”

“Excuse me?” The brunette arched her brow, flustered.

The blonde shrugged awkwardly. “You know…”

“I certainly do not.” The mayor eyed the blonde disapprovingly. Shaking her head, dismissively, she walked back to the car door, heels clicking on the pavement.

"Do you have the name of a mechanic?” Regina just wanted to get back into her car, out of the rain and away from the crass girl. She actually craved the sanctuary of Storybrooke, where there were no surprises.

“Yeah, of course. Let me just grab my Rolodex.” Emma rolled her eyes.

“Well..?” Regina asked impatiently after a few moments had passed and the girl continued to stand, unmoving as the rain poured down. Eighteen years of not being challenged had dulled her sensor for sarcasm.

“Oh… no, I'm…” Emma scrunched her nose, half amused. “I wasn't being serious. I don't have a Rolodex. Or a mechanic.”

The brunette huffed, exasperated.

“Of course you don't.” Regina muttered, looking up at the inside of her umbrella. “Where's the nearest gas station?”

Emma shuffled, shoulders bent forward, to the passenger side of the lady's car.

“What are you doing?”

“You're not leaving me here, lady. For all I know, you could just drive away and not come back.”

“I've already been in a car wreck tonight, I'm not in the mood to be robbed as well.”

“Oh come on! It's freezing out here. The least you can do is buy me a drink. Or… I mean, we could always call the cops…”

Regina grimaced, inhaling as she tried to find her patience.

“Fine. Get in.” The mayor punched the unlock button from the driver side door

“Wait!” She yelled gruffly as the blonde reached for the handle. “You're going to ruin my seats,” in one swift motion the mayor got into her car, shaking off her umbrella, then disposing of it in the backseat. Rummaging behind her, blindly searching through her suitcase, she found a jacket. Turning around, Regina laid the garment on the passenger seat.

“I haven't got all night,” She motioned for the other woman to get in.

“Seriously?” Emma asked as she got in the warm car, shutting the door behind her.

"What? You're soaked, I don't want my seats ruined.”

“Lady, you're a real piece of work.” Emma rolled her eyes.

Hey, at least your not being arrested right now. Thank God for small favors. The blonde reminded herself, trying to keep her cool.

“Where are we going?” The brunette snapped, pursing her lips and looking straight out the window.

 

* * *

 

  
After ten minutes of driving, the Mercedes pulled into the parking lot of a run down pub, one headlight illuminating the beat up cars of fellow patrons. The ride had been thankfully quick, and to both women's relief, silent. Emma had hunkered close to the vent, trying to warm her drenched skin, too busy giving directions to make small talk. Not that she necessarily wanted a conversation with the dark haired woman. Besides, what did she have to talk about with Fifth Avenue anyway? They might as well have been from different worlds.

“Well, this looks like a stellar establishment.” Regina muttered as she put the car in park.

“Hey, you said the closest gas station.”

“This isn't a gas station!” The brunette growled, gesturing towards the diner incredulously. This girl was trying her patience.

“It's just across the street.” Emma laughed, only serving to push the dark haired woman's patience further. “But, you owe me a drink, so…”

Regina turned to the girl, her eyes narrowing. No one had spoken to the former queen in such a way since… Well, Regina wasn't sure that anyone had ever spoken to her that way before. Especially not in the last eighteen years. She certainly wasn't in Storybrooke anymore.

_Isn't that what I wanted?  A challenge?_

“One drink, that's all. Then we get these cars fixed and be on our separate ways.” Regina cleared her throat, trying to focus on the task at hand.  She had come here to find the Savior, restore her happiness and ensure the misery of Storybrooke's population.  

“What? And miss the warmth of your amazing company? Too bad.” The girl snickered sarcastically as she jumped from the car.

Regina scoffed in disbelief, before quickly following the ill bred girl under the awning of the restaurant.

“That booth, over there by the window.” The mayor pointed with her index finger, barely making it through the door. “I want to make sure my car is still there when we leave. After this one, very short drink.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but walked towards the general direction. Sliding into the booth, she tossed her soaked jacket to the side. The brunette looked at the booth, as if trying to decide if it was safe to sit down, then sighed, gingerly lowering herself onto the opposite seat.

Regina studied the blonde, for the first time getting a good look at the girl under the fluorescents. She was young, maybe in her twenties, a spattering of freckles ran across her nose and just under wide green eyes.

_Pretty. Despite a certain aloof disdain and a very obvious lack of breeding._ The mayor wondered if that was the norm in this world. 

Emma cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably under the woman's pensive stare. There was something unsettling about Fifth Avenue. She was beautiful, with her olive skin and dark features, stylish in a way that couldn't be bought; old money for sure. But there was something almost dangerous about the lady.

_Your imagination is really working overtime tonight. The blonde thought to herself._

_She's just a rich bitch, afraid of staining an expensive suit, and you're calling her dangerous?_ Emma laughed at herself, but it did nothing to quiet the alarms going off in her head.

“What's your name?” Emma asked, wanting to break the silence and stop her own wild imagination.

The mayor’s eyes narrowed, it was a normal enough question, she supposed. Yet, somehow it made her feel remarkably vulnerable.

“Regina,” she finally answered, looking out the window to check on her car.

“Queen.” The blonde said offhandedly, picking up the menu.

“Excuse me?” The older woman choked, jarred by the comment.

“Oh,” Emma smiled sheepishly, then shrugged. “Regina… it means queen in Latin.”

_She's just making conversation. She's just trying to be…. What? Cute? Charming? That's a terrible choice of words_. Regina inhaled, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“I didn't know I'd be receiving a linguistics lesson tonight. Why are you looking at the menu? I thought we agreed on a drink.”

“Getting in a wreck makes me hungry.” Emma shrugged nonchalant. She hadn't ate since early afternoon yesterday, and while she wasn't one to ask for hand outs, she was still without any solid plan.

“That was hardly a wreck. Besides, If your brake lights hadn't been out, we wouldn't be in this mess!” Regina hissed, wrapping her hands around the top of the girl's menu. “I said a drink.”

“The food is actually pretty good here, and I'm a pretty cheap date, don't worry.” Emma snapped the menu out of the woman's grasp, unfazed.

The brunette’s nostrils flared. This girl had some audacity.  In eighteen years Regina had never wished for her magic more than she did now. If she had it she would choke the insolent blonde until the girl was on her knees, begging for her life.

“You should have the pizza.” The girl interrupted the former queen’s thoughts, completely unaware of what the woman was envisioning.

“I'm not having anything and neither are you.” The older woman growled, gnashing her teeth together.

“Are you sure? Even after I was so accommodating about not calling the cops?” Emma raised her brows, green eyes narrowing. She was going to milk this little piece of knowledge for all it was worth.

Regina stared back; eyes meeting in a battle of wills. The brunette weighed her options, perhaps it would be better to try her luck. She wasn't positive that her license wouldn't check out if the police ran it. And she really didn't enjoy having anything held over her head. Then again, she hadn't exactly been on a winning streak.

“Can I get you ladies anything to drink?” A heavy set waitress with bleached blonde hair and dark roots interrupted.

“We're ready to order actually!” The blonde piped up, green eyes sparkling mischievously as she smiled from ear to ear.

“I'll have the grilled cheese with onion rings...and my friend here is going to get the pizza. Pepperoni?” She looked over at the unamused brunette, biting her check to keep from laughing.

Regina pursed her lips, eyes searing into the obnoxious girl, then turning to the waitress, plastering a fake smile across her face. “And a glass of water with lemon, please.”

“Anything for you?” The bleach blonde asked, jotting down the order.

“Hot chocolate with cinnamon.”

The waitress nodded. “Coming right up.”

“Cinnamon?” Regina asked distastefully, arching her brow.

Emma shrugged. “To each their own.”

“You know, you're the rudest girl I've ever met.”

“Because I like cinnamon on my hot chocolate?” Emma asked innocently, eyes wide with mock confusion.

The brunette rolled her eyes, giving the blonde another death stare. “…..What's your name?”

Telling the truth felt like giving over too much power. Hadn't that been the lesson she walked away with when that asshole left her? Not to give too much of yourself? Besides, right now she wanted to be anyone other than herself.

“…..Alex.” Emma didn't know where that had come from, but it would suit her tonight.

“Alex…” Regina stared at the blonde, sizing her up. “I do hope you realize that this free meal is all your getting from me. Once we're finished I'm calling a tow truck. By law, I did hit you and therefore it's my duty to cover any damages. So, this meal and the repair of your vehicle- that's it.”

“I'm overwhelmed by your generosity.”

Irritated with the blonde's sarcasm, Regina snapped.

"What were you doing driving without brake lights anyway? You can't be so reckless, someone could have gotten seriously injured.”  

“What are _you_ even doing here?” Emma snapped back, uncomfortable with the lecture. This woman had no right to judge her.  Sitting there in her designer threads, acting as if she was somehow better. This woman wouldn't have survived a day in her shoes.

Regina, initially jarred by the question, reminded herself that the girl had no idea who she was, or where she had come from.

“I've been asking myself that same thing all night.” Regina replied dryly, happy to see the waitress coming by with their drinks.

“So….?” The girl asked, hugging the mug with her fingers, then blowing, making ripples in the whipped cream.  Her temper began to die down as she remembered she was getting a free meal.  A much needed free meal. 

“I just needed to get away for a while.” Regina spun the lemon around with her straw.  She could have easily waltzed through these questions during her Enchanted Forest days.  But here, in the company of the bothersome blonde, she felt off her game; sluggish and nervous.  

_You're rusty, Storybrooke and that miserable curse have spoiled you._

The blonde snorted.

“Bullshit. You wanted to what…. Come slum it? People like you go to the Hamptons to get away. They don't come here.” Emma looked up, noticing a sort of vulnerability in the woman's amber eyes. A sort of deer in headlights kind of look that made the blonde feel almost guilty. Almost.

“No, that's certainly true. I got lost, I assure you it wasn't on purpose.”  

“Where are you from then?”

“Is this an interrogation?”

The blonde shrugged, sipping her hot chocolate, then wiping the whipped cream from her upper lip. “We're sort of stuck with each other until we…. Actually, you… get everything fixed.”

“I'm painfully aware of that..” The mayor retorted.

“Well… I'm just saying, we could try and make it less miserable. Or would you prefer misery? Maybe you're one of those people that can't be happy unless you're making other people miserable.”

The dark haired woman pulled her brows together, a flare of her nostrils and a stormy darkness clouding her eyes. Emma had hit a nerve, and she knew it.

_Way to go, Swan. Push her until she doesn't care about calling the cops anymore._

But it was more than just not wanting to get picked up on the warrant that had Emma wishing she had kept her mouth shut. It was the brunette in front of her. Whatever it was that had set those alarms off in the first place. That tingle at the back of your neck when you're somewhere you ought not be. 

Regina's first instinct had been anger, lashing out had become so second nature to her. But…. She wasn't sure that she was angry.  Put out by the whole evening? Absolutely. It had been both more and less eventful than she had anticipated. And the blonde was…. Different to say the least, no one spoke to her the way this girl did. But maybe there was a certain amount of appeal. Not to mention, the blonde was right- she did like making others miserable. In Storybrooke. But this wasn't Storybrooke, and she wasn't the mayor. She wasn't the queen. Not here.

“Maine.” Regina finally answered, offering a tight smile. A sort of peace offering.

“What?” Emma asked sharply, her heart beat picking up.

_Stop being weird. Lots of people are from Maine._

“You asked where I was from,” the brunette cleared her throat. “I drove down from Maine. A little town I'm sure you've never heard of.”

“Oh…” Emma nodded, trying to think of something to say. She couldn't explain the sudden surge of adrenaline running through her veins. Why did it seem to be so important that they both happened to hail from the same place?

“I bet it's a lot nicer there than it is here.” She tried to play it cool.

Regina's brows threaded together. Looking the girl over she nodded thoughtfully. “In some ways, yes. But, It's not the most exciting place. It can be very…..predictable.”

Emma snorted. “Everyone's life is predictable.” She retorted offhandedly, feeling more than a little bitter as she pushed the white mug off to the side.

Regina raised her brow, wanting to ask the girl to elaborate but the waitress had returned. 

“Slice of pepperoni,” the bleach blonde set down the plate; a greasy, oversized slice of pizza hung off the edges.

“And a grilled cheese with onion rings. Can I get you two anything else?” She asked after handing the girl her order.

“I think we're fine.” The mayor dismissed the woman, still inspecting her plate.

“Wow.” Emma shook her head, staring at the brunette.

“What?”

“You're even more of a WASP than I thought.”

“And your taste in cuisine is far worse than I had expected. Congratulations, that's quite the achievement, dear.” Regina grabbed a napkin from the holder, dabbing the grease from the offending slice.

“Try it. I won't tell your personal trainer.” Emma rolled her eyes, pulling her sandwich a part, catching a string of melted cheese between her fingers.

“I do appreciate someone that can keep a secret.” The brunette muttered dryly, arching a brow as she watched the blonde eat. The girl's etiquette was atrocious. Still, there was something about the blonde that was rather..

_Charming..._  

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like where this is going, or how it's playing out. I love hearing what you think and what you want to see! Thank you so much for reading!

 

 

Regina paced along the tile floor of the mechanic’s office. Florescent lights humming as her heels clicked with each aggravated step. The rain continued to come down in a steady pour, seeming to never relent. On par with the rest of the evening; getting the cars serviced was no easy task. The mechanic had informed her that he was done for the evening. Other than having the girl's car towed to the shop, and despite the Mercedes needing a simple headlight, everything would have to wait until morning.

The mayor had packed her bags with the intention of staying away from Storybrooke for a few days…. Or however long it may take. But now, after the much too eventful evening, all Regina wanted was the comfort of her own bed. She wasn't ready to throw in the towel on her search for the Savior, but she had to admit, she needed a plan.

_This has been a colossal waste of time. What was I thinking, leaving Storybrooke with nothing but a year old address to play Nancy Drew?_

“You know, pacing back and forth like that won't get your cab here any sooner, right?” The blonde interjected, sitting in the plastic seat of the waiting room, elbows propped on her knees.

“I hate waiting.” Regina snapped, stopping to stand with her hands on her hips.

“Yeah. I figured.” Emma shook her head, then looked over the coffee table, picking up a magazine.

“Here, it looks like there's a pretty juicy article about Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman’s divorce!” The girl waved the tabloid with mock enthusiasm.

“What?” Regina wrinkled her brow, momentarily confused.

“Um… Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman… you know, Hollywood power-”

“I know who they are!” It was true, Regina owned a television, she didn't need to rely on false knowledge for that. But, she never could quite grasp this worlds obsession with Hollywood. They were just entertainers, after all. Still, the mayor walked over, snatching the magazine from the girl's hand before sitting down begrudgingly.

“Guilty pleasure?” Emma smiled cheekily, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I don't have anything better to do.” Regina answered dryly, flipping through the glossy pages.

“To be honest, I was kind of surprised.” Emma commented after a few minutes.

“Mmhh…” The brunette hummed, not looking up.

“I mean they had been together for so long and all. And they have kids. Not that it means anything… She was like, super young when they got married and-”

Regina set the magazine down in her lap, turning to stare at the blonde, eyebrow arched.

“Wh-what?”

“I don't see the point in reading this article if you're going to tell me everything that's in it.”  The brunette snapped; half irritated, half unwilling amused. 

Emma blushed, smiling sheepishly. “Well… it's all common knowledge…”

“I suppose I don't follow the gossip columns as regularly as you do.”

“Sorry…” The girl held her hands up, as if in defeat.

Picking the magazine back up the brunette continued to read. It wasn't that she was honestly interested, but it was hard not to get sucked in. She was almost finished when the blonde elbowed her.

“My God! What-”

“Your cab's here.” Emma nodded towards the window, her voice heavy.  She couldn't explain it, or even understand it, but her she suddenly felt like she had been punched in the stomach.  

“Oh.” Regina turned to look, then stood. “Well, it's about time.”

“Yeah…” The girl muttered sounding less than enthusiastic, she turned the pages of her own magazine as one leg bounced anxiously.

The brunette picked up her bags, walking towards the door. A little knot of guilt twisted in her side, stopping her. Turning back to the blonde, she looked the girl over. “How… how are you getting home?”

“Oh… uh..” Emma blushed again, but this was different. There was no mischievous smile to accompany it, just dodging green eyes.

“I'll have them give you a ride.”

“No.” The girl answered a little too quickly, not wanting the brunette to know there was no home, only the yellow Volkswagen sitting in the garage. “I mean…. it's cool. I'll just wait. I don't want to leave my car anyway.”

“Until morning? That's ridiculous. They're about to close the office, you can't wait here.” Regina studied the blonde, not sure what to make of her odd behavior.

“It's…” Emma shifted, not sure what to say. Now that the woman was being so nice…

_Nice? Don't you mean decent._

Yes, decent. And now Emma felt uncomfortable. Embarrassed even.  But the brunette was right, she couldn't stay here all night.  There was a bus station a few miles away, Emma figured she could stay there. Hold up in the women's restroom, it would be safe until morning. It was still raining, and a ride would be nice.

“Okay... yeah, there's... a place."  The blonde stuttered, then forced a smile.  "Thanks…”

 

* * *

 

 

  
“What's this?” Regina sniffed snobbishly, looking over the brightly lit lot; busses pulling in and out as small crowds of passengers entered and exited.

“…..A bus station.” Emma reached for the door handle.

“Clearly. Why are we here?”

The blonde cleared her throat, her face feeling hot. Emma opened the door with a click, turning away from the older woman.

“I'll see you in the morning.” She muttered, jumping out of the cab. Emma had that familiar urge to run, just turn away and disappear. She didn't need Fifth Avenue’s charity, and she sure as hell didn't want her pity.

Regina tilted her head, lines marking her forehead in confusion. Why would the blonde want to be dropped off here.

Realization dawned on the mayor.

_She doesn't have anywhere to go._

It made sense now that the woman thought about it. The way the girl hustled the free meal, the anxiety she had about leaving that yellow heap of junk. That was her home.

“You live in your car?” Regina blurted abruptly. She hadn't meant to sound so judgmental, but she wasn't used to seeing such poverty. Even in the Enchanted Forest, peasants usually dwelled in some sort of hovel. Of course, this world was different, she knew that. But Storybrooke was so far removed, an entity of it's own.

The brunette's answer was met with the harsh slamming of the cab door. Emma forced herself not to run, no need to appear more pathetic.  And what did she care what that rich bitch thought of her anyway?

_She has no idea what it's like to struggle. She has no right to sit there and judge me. I wouldn't even be here if she knew how to drive._

Regina watched, mouth slightly a gape, as the girl walked towards the station.

_It's not my problem. She's not my problem._

So, why did it feel like it was her problem? Why was her stomach tying in knots as she watched the blonde walk away?

_Probably food poisoning from that greasy pizza._

Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn't true.

“The meter’s running, lady…. You wanna give me the address for your hotel or not?” The driver turned around, asking gruffly.

“What? Oh… yes, of course.” Regina dug through her purse, finding the address of the hotel she had scribbled down on a post it.

She had set whole villages on fire, ripped the hearts from many…her own father for one, cursed an entire population…. And didn't feel an ounce of regret. Why on earth did it feel as if she wasn't capable of allowing the silly girl to sleep at the bus station?

_It is not my problem. I didn't leave Storybrooke to save the world…. I already paid for her dinner. That's more than enough. That's more than I owe her._

Regina cleared her throat, forcing herself not to turn and look as the blonde faded in the distance. She was being irrational, and she knew it.

Emma turned around in time to see the cab turn left out of the parking lot. She wrinkled her nose, before turning away.

_Why'd you look back, anyway?_

She didn't know why she had turned around, she certainly hadn't expected the woman to come chasing after her. Regina didn't owe her anything, and other than fixing her vehicle, she didn't want anything from the woman either. She was a complete stranger, and had it not been for the accident their paths would have never crossed.

_What's wrong with me? I don't even know this lady._

But, Emma felt as if she did know her. Which was completely crazy. They didn't have the first thing in common. She didn't even particularly like the woman. Right?

_Right…. She's a snob. A judgmental snob, that wrecked my car._

Emma walked over to the covered waiting area, sitting down on one of the cement benches. It wasn't that she felt necessarily sad… or even abandoned… But there was a persistent, itching feeling in the back of her mind. A feeling she couldn't quite shake. She remembered playing with a refrigerator magnet as a kid. Letting the round, black disc hover just above the metal, feeling it tug and pull closer as it tried to connect with the surface of the fridge door. She felt like that magnet; unreasonably, and unexplainably drawn to the brunette.

_Maybe I got whiplash or something when she hit me. Maybe I need to go to the hospital and have my head examined._

Emma kicked at the cement, the engines of the buss hummed as passengers boarded near her.  A guy in a wore out denim jacket stood against a dingy column, she could feel his eyes inspecting her.  In the distance she heard a woman call out to someone. Emma turned towards the denim jacket, giving him a scowl.

“Hey, Goldie Locks…. Why so glum? Bet you look a whole lot prettier when you smile.”  The man leered, exposing crooked yellow teeth.

“Didn't work for you..” Emma muttered, pushing herself from the seat. This was probably her cue to lock up in the restroom until daylight.

“Ooh! Why you gotta be so rude? Didn't anyone ever teach you to take a compliment?”  The man kicked off the column, stepping towards her.

“Why don't you fuck off?” The blonde spat, keeping her eyes on him as she walked past.

“Yeah, go hide, bitch. I'll see you around, you ain't goin’ nowhere.”  The denim jacket yelled out.

Emma hadn't forgotten how dangerous living on the streets could be.  But when she was with Neal there were somethings she didn't have to worry about quite so much.

_I got by before him, I'll get by without him._

It would just take some adjusting and she'd be fine. She was a survivor, she'd make it. Plus, tomorrow she should have her car, and that would be a lot better than staying someplace like this.  Emma kept her head down as she marched towards the restrooms, the station's cacophony of noise giving no sign of dying down.

“Are you deaf?” A husky female voice asked, a palm shoving the girl's shoulder; stopping the blonde in her tracks.

Emma's head snapped up, instantly recognizing the voice.

“I must have called your name ten times, and you didn't stop once. I had to come chase after you.” Regina looked around, her lip curling in disgust. “This place smells like diesel and urine. I don't appreciate running around out here.”

“Why….? What….what are you doing here? I told you I'd be fine.” Emma stammered.

“Oh really?  And what just happened over there with...that?” The older woman gestured towards the man in the denim jacket. “Was that just a friendly conversation?” Regina put her hands on her hips, raising a brow as she waited for the girl to respond.

Emma's face reddened. “It wasn't that big of a deal. I’m fine…really.” The blonde tossed her hair over her shoulder. As much as she was drawn to the woman, she also didn't want to feel like she was being pitied. Emma took a step to the side of the brunette, about to walk past her.

Without missing a beat, the older woman stepped in front of the girl.  Arms crossed against her chest, Regina suppressed a smile as she stared the blonde down.  This felt good.

“What are you doing? I said-“

“Alex?”

Emma wrinkled her brow, confused. “Wha-” She stopped, remembering she had given the woman a fake name.

“What?” The girl recovered.

“Get in the car.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!   
> Here's an update that I hope you all enjoy! I love to hear your thoughts, and find out what you would like to see, so don't be shy! Thanks for reading!!

 

 

 

I kicked off my sneakers and fell against the bed, looking around the room. The Radison, not bad. Not bad at all, it was a far cry from the backseat of the Bug. I'm sure Fifth Avenue thought it was a dump...

_Her name’s Regina._

I could just imagine the brunette pacing her bedroom in those heels, muttering under her breath. The image made me smile, a soft unintentional laugh humming past my lips.

“Regina.” I said it out loud, just so see how it felt.

_You're being weird, Swan._

Yeah, well…. This whole night was weird, from the moment I walked over to that woman's car. She was a snobby bitch for sure, but...

_She didn't have to get you a room._

No. She didn't. And she didn't have to come after me at that bus station either. Why did she? It wasn't charity, I was pretty sure about that. At least not in the sense that I was used to seeing it; that awful, pitying look people would get in their eyes. That look I got from the nicer foster homes I had been in. I could practically read their thoughts when they saw me. But they never really saw me. I was just some vehicle to make them feel good about themselves. Something they could brag about to their friends and pat themselves on the back for taking on. Until it got to be too much. Until I got to be too much. Then it was short, overwhelmed glances and hushed conversations. I'd come home from school, or more often than not, home from skipping school to find my meager belongings packed up and a social worker waiting for me. And just like that, they'd wash their hands of me, telling themselves they did the best they could. Who knows….. maybe they had.

That look wasn't there though. I wouldn't be surprised if Ms. Hoity-Toity wasn't pissed off at herself for turning the cab around and paying for this room. And I really didn't think she would be bragging about the poor girl she helped out while stranded in Boston. I doubted she even felt bad for me. Which was a weird relief. But, I still didn't understand her motivation. If I wasn't some charity case to brag about… then what did she want from me?

_Why were you sad to see her drive away?_

I wasn't sad. I was…. I didn't know what I was. Unfinished? That didn't make sense, but it was something like that. A nagging, tugging feeling that just wouldn't let go. That woman was somehow both foreign and familiar. How could someone make you feel utterly uncomfortable, and completely comfortable at the same time? We had nothing in common, I didn't even like her. Why then, did I have the urge to be around her? Even now, I wondered what she was doing in her room.

_She's pretty._

Where did that come from? Yeah, she was pretty, but a lot of girls are pretty. So what?

_She's not a girl…_

No, she wasn't. She was a woman, for sure. And that had nothing to do with her age. It was in the way she walked, the way she talked.

_Obsessed much?_

I groaned, rolling onto my stomach and burying my head in the pillow. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn't I stop thinking about her?

 

* * *

 

 

Regina stood in front of the bathroom mirror, inspecting her reflection. Cleansers and creams littered the sides of the sink; ready for application. Sighing, she turned the handle, warm water rushing from the faucet.

She still couldn't understand why she had the cab turn around. Regina's actions always had very clear and calculated motives, she didn't often act on simply a lark; but tonight she had. The lack of reason unsettled the mayor, forcing her to grasp to some explanation.

_I've never been a bad person. It was Snow that made me the Evil Queen. All of them… they villainized me until I had no choice. I became what they wanted me to become._

Regina thought perhaps once the curse was broken she really would leave Storybrooke for good. Out here she could leave the Evil Queen behind, she could have a chance at a fresh start. Out here, she had the freedom to do good. The girl needed a place to stay, she was being a Good Samaritan, that's why she turned the cab around and paid for the room. There wasn't any other reasonable explanation. The blonde was brash, bothersome, and terribly irresponsible. She had simply helped the girl out of the kindness of her heart.

_The kindness of my heart? Really?_

Regina huffed, throwing the soiled washcloth against the porcelain sink. Her reasoning was far from satisfactory, but it would have to suffice. The mayor switched off the bathroom light, wishing she could do the same to her thoughts. It was better to just leave the matter alone. Tomorrow she would be free of the irritating blonde. The brunette furrowed her brow, that thought didn't seem to put her at ease.

_Perhaps I've just been without decent human contact for so long… Not that the girl is especially decent. Then again, it just proves what a low bar the residents of Storybrooke have set. What was I thinking when I cursed myself to spend eternity with the people I hate most?_

The mayor neatly searched her suitcase until finding a silk pajama set. She would just get ready for bed, watch some television and not think of the blonde in the next room.

_God only knows what that delinquent is doing over there.  Hopefully not wiping the room clean of it's valuables._

Just as Regina climbed into bed, ready to relax and find something mindless to watch, there was a knock on her door.

The woman turned, face drawn as she wondered who it could possibly be.

_The girl?_

“Who is it?” The mayor called out, padding over to the door.

“It’s me… Uh… Alex.” Emma found it harder than anticipated to remember what name she was supposed to give.

Regina sighed, throwing her hands up in the air, rolling her eyes.

_Of course._

“What do you want? Is your room not satisfactory?” The older woman stood by the door, not moving to open it. She was trying not to think of the blonde, she didn't need the girl coming in and rifling through her belongings.

Emma leans against the door, not entirely sure what she was doing there herself. “I… I just wanted to….. say thanks…” She mutters, kicking at the cement of the sidewalk.

Regina let's out an exasperated sigh, more irritated with her own conflicting feelings than the blonde on the other side of the door. How was this girl getting under her skin so badly? She wanted to open the door, but she also wanted to tell the blonde to go away. Giving in, half out of curiosity, the older woman opened the door a crack, the door chain still securely in place.

“You couldn't have waited until morning?” The brunette growls, her eyes meet sparkling green ones. A lop sided smile stretched across the girl's face as she shrugs awkwardly.

“I brought you a soda…” Emma reaches into the pocket of her hoodie, producing a can of sprite. “I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got something with fewer calories.”

“Thoughtful…” Regina drawls, eyeing the girl suspiciously.

_What does she want?_

Without discussion, Regina closes the door, unhooking the latch and reopening it.

“Should someone in your position be spending money on something so frivolous?” The brunette asks haughtily.

“So… what? Are you a financial advisor or something?” Emma hands the soda can over, walking into the older woman's room. The brunette hadn't invited her in, but she was pretty sure the woman would let her know if she wasn't welcome.

“By all means… come in.” Regina rolls her eyes, closing the door behind her. “And no, I'm not a finical advisor, but I know a waste of money when I see one.” She turns her back and crosses the room, taking a seat on the bed. The older woman wonderes for a moment if she was too harsh.  This wasn't Storybrooke, after all.

Regina blinks, looking down at the can. “Thank you.”

The blonde nods. Pulling the tab of her own can, she leans against the small table across from the bed. Emma shrugs, looking down. “It's cool. I stole them from the gas station across the street.”

“What?” Regina snaps, pushing back onto her feet from the bed.

Emma breaks into a grin, exposing straight white teeth. She shakes her head, laughing softly.

“Calm down. I got them from the vending machine outside.” She smirks. “I'm not a thief.”

_Well…. Not usually._

Regina raises a brow. “You have a very odd sense of humor.”

“Yeah, I've been told.” Emma shifts, still trying to figure out what she was doing.

“Sit down.” The brunette gestures to the seat pushed under the table. “Your fidgeting is distracting.”

The girl rolls her eyes, but humors the older woman. “So, how did you get to be so stinkin’ rich, then?”

“That's a very rude question to ask someone. Would you like to know my age and weight as well?” Regina asks incredulously, tilting her head in disbelief. This girl lacked manners in their most basic sense.

_I could tell her to leave. Why did I let her in?_

Emma smiles, taking a drink of her soda.

“I'm just trying to live up to your expectations, your Majesty.”

Regina's perfect brows shoot up, her heart beating just a bit faster.

“Don't call me that.” The older woman snaps, unsure if she really means it.

“…It was just a joke..” The blonde defends, looking like a small child that had been scolded. “Sorry..” She mutters, eyes darting around the room.

It had been a long time since the former Queen heard that moniker. Of course, she reminded herself, the blonde was simply using it in jest. Alex had no idea who she was, nor what she was capable of. Still, it was unsettling.

_It was a harmless comment._

“…My family had money.” The mayor says after a few moments. “And I married well.”

“Oh… so you're married?” Emma studies the woman. Of course she's married. Probably a gold digger.

_No. She's too rigid and uptight to be nouveau riche. She's old money and good breeding._

“Are you running away from your husband? Is that why you didn't want to call the cops?” Emma asks, leaning forward, rather excited by this prospect.

Regina laughs. It's light and natural and completely unexpected. So much so, the mayor doesn't even recognize it as her own. The blonde grins, unsure of why.

“No, I'm not running away from my husband.” The mayor leans back on the headboard. She had never run from Leopold, although there had been many times that very thought had crossed her mind. “And I'm not married anymore.”

Emma nods. “Sorry…”

“Don't be… I’m not.” The brunette waits for the girl to comment, surprised when she doesn't. Instead, Emma traced the rim of her can with her index finger, nodding knowingly. There was something about the blonde's wide green eyes. They seemed one second so curious with youth, and the next knowledgeable in a way that only hardship and pain can bring.

“Why didn't you want to call the cops, then? You running from the mob?” Emma asks, trying to lighten the mood, which had suddenly become a bit too somber for her liking.

“…Maybe,” Regina's brows full lips turn into a cat like smirk.

Emma tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she studies the woman.

“No, you're not.” The girl smiles.

“How do you know? Maybe I am.”

“You're not.” Emma pauses, biting the side of her bottom lip. “You're too stuck up.”

“Excuse me?”

The blonde chuckles.

“I'm glad you find insulting me so amusing!”  Regina crosses her arms, wondering why she is permitting the girl to stay.

“Sorry,” Emma chuckles. “Okay… poor choice of words. I meant classy. You're too classy for the mob. I bet you like, went to cotillion and shit as a kid.”

“Your vocabulary is astounding. I'm surprised you even know what cotillion is.” Regina says in a tone that isn't entirely disapproving.

“I went.”

“Now you're lying.”

“No, I'm not. I learned how to wear white gloves and pour tea and everything.”

“And how does a cotillion girl wind up living in a broke down Volkswagen?” Regina crosses her arms, pursing her lips.

Emma swallows, tapping her fingers against the table. Shifting in her seat, feeling as if she was under a microscope.   
  
“I guess I'm just really great at decision making.” She shrugs, trying to pull off the apathetic facade.

The mayor thinks of the reason she attempted this failed mission, of the girl she's looking for. Although she tries not to think of the Savior in such innocent terms. Still, one could assume the blonde sitting in her hotel room may not live all that differently from the one she's looking for.

_Wouldn't the darling Snow White just love that? Serves her right._

But Snow, or rather Mary Margaret, doesn't know what sort of squalor her offspring might be dwelling in. Mary Margaret has a decent roof over her head, and a warm meal in her stomach each night. And Regina thinks that's far too good for the woman that destroyed her own chance at happiness. The school teacher should know... deserves to know what became of her precious babe.

_Perhaps, this isn't an entirely wasted endeavor. Perhaps, the blonde can shed some light on the nomadic world the Savior navigates._

“It must be dangerous… your lifestyle.” The brunette comments abruptly.

“I'm fairly good at not dying.”

“Yes, you seem very resourceful. But…” Regina pauses, tilting her head. “You're a pretty girl, and I'm sure that may be less to your benefit in some situations.”

“Aw, you think I'm pretty.” Emma attempts to joke, but she blushes at the comment and wishes this conversation was over. “It's really not that bad, though. When I have my car things are a lot easier.”

“But, that's not a long term solution, is it? I mean… you must have a plan of some sort?” The mayor asks, half genuinely curious about the blonde, half thinking of the Savior.

“Well… I did have a plan.” Emma rakes her fingers through the bottom of tangled curls. She thinks maybe she should tell the woman it's none of business.

“But my boyfriend….my ex boyfriend, fucked that up pretty royally.” Emma scowls at the thought of Neal, wishing she was just pissed off at him. She was angry at that bastard, but it was more than that, she was mad at herself. Mad she had believed every stupid lie that came out of his stupid mouth. Mad that she hadn't learned anything from her eighteen years of being thrown away. Mad she had let herself wind up in the place she was now; no home, no job, no foreseeable way out of this mess. Mad she had let herself love someone…. To actually fucking open her heart up... when deep down, she knew how it would end. And she doesn't know what she's doing here; sitting in this stranger’s hotel room, spilling her guts out to this rich bitch. But she doesn’t necessarily want to leave either.

“So…” The blonde clears her throat, looking up at the brunette. “Time for a new plan.”

“Where is he now? Your ex?”

Emma snickers bitterly. “Damned if I know… I'm not so great at keeping people around.”

Regina knew a weak spot when she saw one, and this was clearly a subject the blonde didn't like. She could have pushed, she half wanted to. But she also didn't want to, there was no reason for it. In that other place she would have, but tonight…. Maybe tonight she didn't have to be the Evil Queen.

“That makes two of us.” The older woman says instead.

Emma narrows her eyes, looking at the dark haired woman skeptically, then smiles broadly, her tongue darting out between her teeth just slightly. “Yeah, I can believe that.”

The mayor cocks her brow, deep chocolate eyes catching green eyes; wide and full of mirth. The blonde is insolent. A brat at best, a disrespectful delinquent that has no idea with whom she is jesting. The girl has no idea what the older woman is capable of; that she had quite literally killed for less.

_I can dismiss her…_

But Regina knows she doesn't really want to be rid of the girl's company. Not yet at least.

“Why don't you go see what's in the mini fridge.” The mayor suggests instead. An unexpected smile resting upon full lips as she gestures towards the small kitchenette on the other side of the small room.

“Well, that's something we can finally both agree on.” Emma says as she's already half across the room, blonde curls swishing carelessly down her back.

The mayor watches, inspecting the girl while her back is turned. Her lean frame bent at the waist as she rummages through the fridge. She's thin, almost too thin. And Regina feels an unfamiliar sense of satisfaction at having fed the blonde.

_I'm here to save myself, not the world. And certainly not this delinquent._

Still, it's a pleasant, warm feeling the former Queen isn't accustomed to.

“I didn't say you could help yourself.” Regina chides dryly when the blonde turns around with two airplane bottles of vodka.

“Drinking alone makes you a lush.” The blonde smiles wide, eyes dancing mischievously.

The dark haired woman smiles despite herself.

“How very altruistic of you. How old are you anyway?”

“Old enough,” Emma lies. “Plus, I thought it was rude to ask a woman her age. You should lead by example.”

“Hmm…” The woman purrs, pursing her lips, but she doesn't comment more on the subject.

“Hey,” Emma clears her throat, attempting to put the right words together. “I really do want to say, thanks. Not just…. for the room and all, but… you know…for not acting like I'm some sad charity case. For not feeling bad for me.”

“I don't feel bad for you.” Regina retorts, suddenly thinking about the Savior. She wonders how similar the two girls might be.

_Do I feel bad for her, for Emma?_

She tells herself that she doesn't. It wasn't her fault Snow thew her own daughter away. If anything she saved the child from freezing to death, what happened after that, the choices Emma made- it wasn't her own doing.

“Yeah, I know.” Emma swirls the liquid in her glass. “You're kinda weird… you know that?” She squints, looking at the brunette from the side.

Regina's brows shoot up. “You need to work on how you show gratitude.”

The blonde chuckles , her eyes creasing with her sheepish smile. “Probably. But I meant it as-”

“If you're going to say you meant it as a compliment, then you clearly don't know what that is, dear.”

“Okay. But… what I mean is… you're not what you seem.”

_Well, the girl certainly was right about that._

“And how do I seem?” The older woman purrs, finding herself rather amused with the girl's candid company. It may have been unwanted, at least in the beginning, but this back and forth seemed to fill a void that had been severely lacking in Storybrooke.

Emma shrugs, contemplating. “Like a rich bitch,” She grinns, purposefully baiting the brunette this time. Then quickly, as if to show no harm was meant, she puts her hands up, palms out in a sign of defeat.

“You…you come from money, you have this… like, this almost regal air about you. You're reserved and proper...You're exactly what you look like...but then… then I get the feeling that you're not.”

_I get the feeling that you're dangerous… Far more dangerous than the man at the bus station, or one of the many low life's I've crossed paths with. I get the feeling that I shouldn't be here.._

“Is anyone?”

“No. Not entirely, some more so than others….”

“And you? Are you what you seem, Alex?” Regina purred, looking up from her drink, dark eyes meeting wide green orbs. The former queen arched a perfect brow, plump red lips settling into a contemplative pout.

The woman's question was met with nervous laughter. Emma wrinkled her nose; disappointed and relieved that she hadn't given the dark haired woman her real name. She had suspected it to be too big an exchange of power over dinner, and now those suspicions were proved true. Still, there was a certain yearning to hear it pass through the woman's lips. Plump, full lips, that really were quite nice to look at. Honestly, there wasn't much about the woman she didn't find ascetically pleasing.

_What the hell?_

A haphazard toss of blonde hair. There was that feeling again, the same one that had plagued the blonde all night. It made her stomach drop, a jolt of fear and excitement running through her veins, not necessarily unpleasant. And the way the brunette’s eyes roamed over her, dusky lashes batting coyly. It felt as if Regina was…

_Sizing me up.._

“I don’t know.” Emma takes a swig of her drink, looking away as if it would break the spell. “Yeah… Probably.”

“Hmm…” The mayor studies the blonde's face. “No, I don't believe that.”

“Yeah?” Emma asks dryly. “So, what do you believe?”

Regina bites the inside of her cheek, not sure what she does believe about the strange girl sitting in her hotel room. There's something captivating about the way the blonde is both guarded and vulnerable, often it seems, all at once. She's aggravating and bothersome; getting beneath the older woman's skin in such a way that muddles her thoughts. And it's really quite endearing, despite Regina's best efforts to resist admitting this.

_I’ve had too much to drink._

But the former Queen knows that's far from the truth. A part of her thinks, perhaps, she hasn't had quite enough.

_To drink, or of the girl?_

And for the first time, in a very long time, Regina wishes she was a different sort of woman. Wishes that she was prone to indulging whims and flights of fancy. She wishes she wasn't an angry Queen with a broken heart, and a penchant for revenge.

Regina clears her throat, finishing the last of her drink.

“It’s getting quite late.” She says because she is who she is, and there are no wishes in this world, or any other for that matter. Not for her.  “And as much as I've enjoyed your….company. I believe we should both retire for the night.”

 

 

 


End file.
